What went right?
by TheOliveWeirdo O.O
Summary: Poor Germany. He only wanted to celebrate with a pleasant, sophisticated evening at his favourite restaurant. Now he finds himself in a rather awkward situation with Italy, his temperamental brother, the Bad Touch Trio and of course...Hitler. If your asking what went wrong, you'll soon be wondering what went right...rated T for the bundle of joy that is Lovino. Spamano. GerIta.
1. Chapter 1

It was raining again.

Not the thunderous kind of rain with dark, drooping clouds in shades of slate which scorn the sky but the gentle kind, drumming on the windows and pattering on paving stones like a sensitive, curious child. It was so nice that Italy felt like sticking his head out of the darkened window and drinking some of the rain because it just looked so nice and fresh!~ but...Romano had told him not to do that. He gently closed the open window.

Italy hummed happily to himself as he busied himself around his room, a wide smile plastered to his face. Pulling on (after smelling) a red German jacket Germany had brought for him a while ago- _But was still nice and fully pressed! thats German precision for you! Germany was so kind to get this for me, I'll have to thank him again tonight! ~_- he smiled fondly as he remembered when Germany had given it to him, that rare sweet smile ( the one he does when he doesn't realize he's smiling, not the one when he's trying to smile. Thats a scary!) on his face that reminded him of sunshine. He flushed happily at the memory, a lightness in his stomach that made him feel like he was walking on clouds. Italy looked at himself in his mirror, doing this ridiculous but adorable little dance out of excitement, squeezing his cheeks together.

_Tonight will be so much fun!~ With Germany! and Romano! and Big Brother's Spain and France! and Germany's brother Prussia!...wait...speaking of Romano.._

"-Italy! godammit are you done yet!? Its been twenty minutes!"

Romano's irritated growls echoed through the house, as he stood directly below Italy's room, having to wait for the _Idota_ for the _second_ time this week because he had been busy fawning over that god damn hideous German jacket that Potato bastard had bought for him. He tapped his watch.

…_.damn potato Bastard...buying my brother things…who does he even think he is?.. .If he touches him tonight I swear..._

"Coming Fratello!~ Just one more second!"

Romano sighed. That meant twenty more minutes. Knowing Italy he would probably feel like now was the perfect time to have a siesta! he diverted his attention to the fact he had actually agreed to do this stupid thing tonight, when he had things that were a hell of a lot more important to do. The things you have to do for brothers, eh?

Romano actually felt shocked when Italy almost barrel-rolled down the staircase seconds later, arriving on time for once, giggling at the foot of the staircase. It was like Italy was already drunk, _on happiness_. Romano cringed, making a note to himself to keep an extra, _extra_ eye on the sneaky potato bastard tonight . After helping him up and checking the idiot over to see that he hadn't hurt himself, he continued moaning. His arms folded with a scowling face like a puppy trying to be threatening that was practically ™Romano.

"ugh. I still can't believe you're making me do this. Especially with those two stupid potato bastards. Fucking Germans..."

"oh come on Romano, It'll be fun!~ Big Brother Spain and France are coming too~"

Romano jolted up with a start from his new revelation, wanting to claw his now very red face off. Why the hell did Italy always drop such massive bombshells on him out of nowhere!? He could deal with the two potato bastards, granted, but the spaniard….. was an entirely different story.

"what?! T-Tomato Bastard?! Why the hell is he suddenly coming! nobody told me this!"

"But Fratello...I'm telling you now, ve~ And don't you want to see Spain, Romano? He really wants to see you. Big Brother France says he's been missing you~..."

Italy chirped this in innocent yet insinuating voice that made Romano want to strangle him. He blushed involuntarily, and thought of that stupid Spain with his stupid glittery green eyes and stupid fucking _grin_ ( I mean jeez, was the guy ever unhappy?)and-

_~"ahaha Lovi! Your face is bright red! You look like a tomato!"~_

-and how much _he wanted to fucking strangle him!_ He infuriatedly muttered a string of italian curses under his breath as he kept on hearing this bastardo's ever-optimistic little voice inside his head. All the while Italy hid a little smile which was forming beneath his hand, which grew even more difficult as his brother spluttered on about how so little he cared about Spain missing him. It took a while for Romano to gain his composure.

"Look, can we just get going already?" Romano eventually grumbled " I just want to get this fucking thing over as soon as possible, okay?! I dont even know why you want me there..."

"Romano! please don't be like that~ ...Germany's even paying for everything, and It can be a really fun night if we make it one, ve!~ Its a really really cool restaurant too!~"

The desperation in Italy's tone was now leaking through as Romano continued to sulk. he then had a bright idea, pinging in his mind in what he imagined was a light bulb shape. He patted Romano on the back, swivelling him around, giving him that adorable Italian smile that nobody could refuse. Not even Germany.

"and I want you there because you're my Fratello, silly! It just wouldn't be the same without you, Romano...so please come for me."

God damn that smile was powerful. Refusing it was like stabbing a stray kitten on your doorstep in the eye. With a needle. Romano's eye twitched at the indignity of being beaten.

"Tch. Fine."

"yaaay!~ " Italy immediately threw his arms around the squirming Romano in a hug, braving the onslaught of abuse that Romano immediately fired back. part of him believed that was Romano's own way of hugging him back. Another part of him felt a bit sad about the fact his Fratello never hugged him and instead was calling him a 'Pasta bastard' in a voice as sour as year-old milk. But most of him just really wanted some Pasta.

The two Italy brothers pulled on their coats and scarves to brave the blisteringly cold weather outside, as they headed out to Romano's car to drive to the as Romano had eloquently put it- 'Pretentious-Potato-bastard-Aryan-German-restaurant-thing' nearby Germany's house. The rain was now heavier as the sky was darkening, and since Italy had now lost four of their umbrella's through losing them during training (Germany made them train no matter the weather) and of course that one visit to China's house (he really shouldn't have opened it indoors) him and Romano were huddled together under one umbrella, scurrying for the warm,welcoming inside of the car.

When they finally jumped in, with a bang!, Romano in the drivers seat ( No way in hell was he letting Italy drive, do you think he had a death wish?!) and Italy staring at his reflection in the window from the passenger seat they belted up, Romano revved the engine, and they started along the bustling neon highway illuminated by the frenzy of the night-life.

"If there aren't any tomatoes i'm driving straight home, do you hear me?"

"But Romano, you're forgetting something!..there's always going to be one tomato!~ve"

"What the hell are you talking about?! what is this 'one tomato' crap, eh?"

"Fratello, its You!~"

From the inside of a car, travelling at a fast pace along a motorway, nobody can hear your screams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Starting to make authors notes from this chapter, and on that note sorry the chapters are so short! School has been ridiculously busy recently and I feel like I'm drowning in revision. I will update every chance I can, and hopefully we can get this up to a good body of chapters. Drunk Prussia is awesomest Prussia. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this and my story!**

**"_If Life is an Olive, then Love is the__ pimento"_  
**

**O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O**

Germany sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. Sometimes he just couldn't believe Prussia.

"Bruder, they are going to have beer. Please put the glasses down."

He stared with a resigned look at his older brother, Who was precariously ( not to mention stupidly) attempting to transfer some of his beer into a massive flask for the evening, while spilling the frothy mixture all over the floor. The polished floor Germany had just put significant effort into cleaning. Sigh.

"But what If you're wrong, West? what if the awesome me is forced to spend an entire awesome evening without ANY beer?! I'm not taking any chances."

Prussia ignored Germany's last fuming sentence, and swaying on his feet continued to gargle and transfer the beer. Outside the sky was viscous and thick, as if It had been smeared with treacle. The moon shone like a luminescent coin.

"Prussia! Why would I specifically book a restaurant without knowing if it served beer!? Are you drunk already!? mein gott!"

"So what if I am, Bruder? I can handle my alcohol unlike some Germans! You talk like the awesome me is a lightweight!"

Germany continued to berate and bicker with Prussia, loudly sighing as he meticulously scrubbed the dirtied parquet floor to a sterile shine, his unusually high hopes for the evening already faltering. All the while the two brothers had been arguing, two other guests had been patiently waiting for them. France, who was leaning casually against the fridge with a bemused expression upon his face, and Spain who was grinning contentedly, until Germany barked at him in a voice like sandpaper to give him a hand and he rushed over, using one of Germany's bathroom towels to clean the liquid.

_Why am I surrounded by Dummkopfs?..._ He thought miserably to himself, as Spain was now attempting to swim in the amber liquid, gleefully pretending to be a fish. Germany groaned.

However...he couldn't help a smile tug at his lips as the sudden thought of one guest in particular surged into his mind like water from a dam. He blushed lightly at the realisation of how often he had invaded his thoughts recently...and how... off-topic some of the entries for his p_urely professional_ 'understanding Italy' (to him the man was still a pasta-devouring enigma) diary had been.

_Italy….I do hope he enjoys tonight, ja….he has been trying harder at training so in a way he deserves it...even though he still mass produces white flags, at least he isn't always running away any more….well he still runs away most the time, but that's not the-_

Germany's dreamy inner monologue was interrupted as with a cataclysmic CLANG! Prussia finally toppled down onto the floor, laughing heartily into a puddle of beer. Spain and France burst out laughing in unison, and gently hoisted a rickety Prussia to his feet, who almost slipped and fell back down again.

"Steady, Amigo!" Spain laughed, keeping a firm grip on his friend " We don't want you to hurt yourself! "

"Non! that would be terrible! and before such a wonderful evening also..."

France after hauling Prussia along with Spain to one of the kitchen chairs, to which he protested since he could awesomely do it himself, turned his attention to Germany. Germany was still in a disconnected state, a dazzled,faraway look in his eyes. He'd seen _that_ look many a time, cherished it on the chiselled faces of monsieurs and madams towards him, the beautiful French Casanova that he was. And chortled at the fact he knew _exactly_ which adorable nation Germany was getting so hot and bothered about. _ohohohohohoh_.

"Thinking about someone, Germany?"

"w-what? Nein. Just cleaning, since my Bruder can't go a second without making a mess."

_How did France know I was thinking about...someone? In fact I need to keep my eye on him tonight...Everyone knows he has a 'thing' for Italian boys…_ Germany squirmed in repulsion, as his mind was briefly invaded by the memory of everything Italy had innocently told him about the teachings of 'Big Brother Francis'.

" oh wait... I almost forgot Mes Amis! Germany….are the Italy Brothers still coming?"

He was practically salivating. Germany shivered in disgust, not quite realising or wanting to realise what France was hinting at.

"Ja. They're still coming, France. Italy's brother Romano….and Italy. Well, Romano hasn't tried to stab me like he claimed he would, so im assuming he's still coming."

Although Romano hadn't physically stabbed Germany, his intense loathing of him often did. He..just wanted to be a good friend to Italy...so why did he have such a problem with that? _All I ever wanted to do was be a good…...friend….to Italy…_

"Of course Italy's still coming, France! Mein Bruder practically does everything with him! If he wasn't there he'd probably cry!"

Prussia just narrowing avoided being 'punched in ze throat' as Germany turned a rather interesting shade of burgundy, the left temple in his forehead protruding violently. Spain suddenly cheerfully laughed a laugh so happy Germany was surprised it didn't have its own glowing meadow and 'chariots of fire' music to go alongside it.

"I can understand that Germany! Italy's so cute! although...Not as cute as Lovi! ahaha! Its so good that he's still coming, Si! I've missed him so much!"

"well Spain, we certainly could _never _have guessed that, Mon ami."

Spain looked up concentratedly at France in obvious confusion, blinking repeatedly. France could've predicted the hopelessly oblivious Spaniard's next words.

"Huh? Really? But Its all I've been talking about for days now!"

Spain rubbed his hands with glee, although he knew the first greeting to come out of his little tomato's mouth when he saw him would probably be 'Tomato Bastard' He was tangibly over the moon to be seeing him again. France raised his eyebrows and received a quizzical look.

"...never mind Spain."

Germany felt his stomach grumble as he checked his watch, breathing a sigh of relief as he was made aware that they were still going to make it in time.

"We should all get going then. I don't want to be late for my own reservation, Ja."

Germany pulled on his coat, gently stroking the fabric when a sentimental thought suddenly entered his mind.

_I wonder if Italy liked that German Jacket I bought him…_

And Germany continued to wonder this, as he piled into his car with the Bad Touch Trio ( With Prussia giggling and playing with the rear view mirror in the passenger seat, and France babbling about all the beautiful Women he had seen previously while going to this restaurant while Spain had decided randomly to have a siesta while muttering about tomatoes in his sleep) and warming up his vehicle, began to drive along the stretch of road bathed in synthetic amber light that eventually ran to the restaurant. The stars winked mischievously in the pitchness of the night sky, and Germany finally acknowledged that actually, he was feeling rather pumped about tonight, but mostly about getting to spend the evening with a certain Italian. Not that you could tell of course, as with the German's rigid expression and composure ( only a slight blush betraying him) he seemed as uninterested as usual. This was hardly the case.

_I...uh, hope Italy did like it….What if he wears it?- he wont, he won't wear it…_

Like a merry-go round of confusion, Germany's thoughts like the rain outside the car continued to fall, as he drove along the lonely highway, flashing beneath its amber glow.


End file.
